A Poem by H. Coleridge: Be Not Afraid to Pray

 Be Not Afraid to Pray


Hartley Coleridge, 1796-1849

Be not afraid to pray; to pray is right.
Pray, if thou canst, with hope, but ever pray,
Though hope be weak or sick with long delay;
Pray in the darkness, if there be no light.

Whate’er is good to wish, ask that of Heaven, 
Though it be what thou canst not hope to see: 
Pray to be perfect, though material leaven
Forbid the Spirit so on earth to be;

But if for any wish thou dar’st not pray,
Then pray to God to cast that wish away.

A Poem by J. Milton: When I Consider How My Light is Spent

 When I Consider How My Light Is Spent

by John Milton (1608-1674)

When I consider how my light is spent,
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide;
“Doth God exact day-labor, light denied?”
I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies, “God doth not need
Either man’s work or his own gifts; who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed
And post o’er land and ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait.”

A Poem by J. Donne: Death, Be Not Proud

 Death, Be Not Proud

(also known as Sonnet X)
by John Donne

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.